Chasing after a lost dog may not be the caliber of work for a hunter, but even Alys Brangwin has to try her hand at it when a ransom demand comes in. But is it the dognapper or the dog who is the local menace?

"Quack!"
the duck declared with a dignified, even pompous air. Alys Brangwin
was glad that someone was able to manage some dignity out of
the situation. She might have been Motavia's most celebrated hunter,
but a floppy hat with bells might have been more appropriate at that
point.

"Your
job request to the Hunter's Guild," she said with admirable
patience, not even gritting her teeth...much. "Your job request
stated that your 'most priceless treasure' had been stolen. At no
time did you mention a dog!"

Alys's
client gave her a look of such blank incomprehension that she almost
felt guilty for being annoyed. He blinked several times behind his
wide, wire-rimmed spectacles, which combined with his receding
hairline, pudgy cheeks and generally plump build gave him something
of the look of an Abe Frog wearing clothes.

"But...but
why would I offer five thousand meseta to recover something like
that?" Ernest asked, his confusion puzzling. "Those are
just things. Why would anyone care so much about objects?"

Now
she did feel guilty.

"You've
got me, but they do."

Ernest
shook his head.

"I
just can't understand that."

Glancing
around the room, noting the two brightly-colored songbirds on their
perch, the small gray mouse nibbling grain in its cage, the potted
palm, and of course the duck which occupied the second of the room's
two chairs, Alys could believe it.

"All
right, so what can you tell me about the missing dog?"

"His
name is Robin, and he's black with a green patch on the back of his
neck. He's about this tall." Ernest held his hand at waist
height. "He's very friendly and can do all kinds of tricks. He
can even balance his ball on his nose!"

"You
said he went missing two days ago?"

Ernest's
head bobbed up and down rapidly.

"Robin
didn't come home for supper! He's never late for his dinner, so I
knew that someone had taken him. The...the town guard just laughed
at me, so I contacted the Hunter's Guild at once!"

Alys
sighed.

"Ernest,
you can't just let your dog run loose around town. Animals are like
children; they need supervision to function in human society. He
could have gotten hurt, or lost, or--"

"Robin
would never set a paw wrong! He's a very intelligent and well-behaved
dog! Besides, today I found this shoved under my door!"

He
handed her a scrap of paper, his expression still indignant.

We
haf yr dog! Put 100 miseta under the big rok near the ded tree if you
wannit bak!

"The
handwriting is as bad as the spelling," Alys murmured. "It
looks like a kid wrote this. Is there anybody you know who doesn't
like you, or Robin?"

Ernest
frowned, his fleshy brow furrowing in thought.

"Well,
there's Tamm Geiger. He said that Robin got into his chicken coop
and the chickens ran off in all directions, but I don't believe a
word of it. Three hours to catch one little flock of chickens,
indeed!"

"Hmm."

"Then
there's Owen Charter. He claims that Robin dug up and ate
half the carrots in his vegetable garden. As if Robin would ever do
such a thing! He's far too well-mannered!"

"Still
and all..."

"Oh,
and there's Victoria Gray, who runs the general store. She actually
threw a vashal-fruit at Robin! Of course, she claims that
Robin jumped against the fruit-stall and knocked it down, but--"

"Apparently
Robin is the terror of the village," she muttered under her
breath. Out loud she asked, "Who's the town guard?"

"Jonas
Reeve. He doesn't like Robin either. No wonder he wouldn't
take me seriously! He'd probably be just as happy if Robin never came
home!" The very thought of it made Ernest gasp. "Oh, Alys,
you wouldn't let that happen, would you?"

"I
like dogs," Alys said. "They usually obey better than
people do. Where does the guard live?"

"Down
at the end of the street on the left. You can tell because his house
has a jail cell built into the side."

"Thanks.
This 'big rock near the dead tree' in the note--does that mean
anything to you? Some local landmark?"

"Of
course. There's a sixty-foot palm that was uprooted two years ago in
an earthquake. It fell south of town, and there's a large boulder
that was thrust up through the ground by the same quake just next to
it."

"All
right."

"Alys...do
you really think you can find Robin for me?"

"I'm
going to do my best."

Alys
welled up the street as the afternoon sun beat down. Vennat was no
different than a dozen other villages she'd been to, with a dusty
street well tamped-down by feet and cart wheels, flanked by neat
buildings of yellow-white stone with castle-like crenelations around
the flat roofs, occasionally with domes slotted with ventilation
windows. Here and there wooden signs swung from poles over doors,
marking shops, a doctor's office, a tavern, and the local law. The
latter was right where Ernest had said it was, and a tall, lean man
sat on a bench out front. Never one for the oblique approach, Alys
walked up to him.

"Are
you Jonas Reeve?"

The
man looked her up and down. He was around fifty, the stubble on his
cheeks liberally speckled with gray, his complexion and build
reminding Alys of a tough old piece of rawhide. His shirt and pants
were the same off-white color as the buildings, and he wore a pair of
crossed black belts on his torso as weapon harnesses; one had three
flat throwing knives while the other supported a sturdy head-knocker
of a truncheon at his waist. His eyes traveled up and down Alys,
paying more attention to the paired slashers at her belt than the
body beneath her white-piped red dress or her long brown hair. She
appreciated that.

"Yep."
He was winding string around a couple of crossed sticks, securing a
triangular piece of cloth to the frame. It looked kind of like a
kite to Alys, only it was no more than eight inches long and the
shorter side of the frame wasn't covered.

"So
what do I call you? Marshal? Sergeant?"

"Just
'Guardsman' will be fine, if you have to use a title. No use for
anything fancier out here."

"Usually
that's when people like to insist on it."

Jonas
turned his head away and spat into the dust.

"More
fool them. Here, it's just Guardsman Reeve. Better yet, call me
Jonas. We'll save the official names for when you get into official
trouble."

"That
might be now, since I'm here to see you officially."

"Kinda
figured on that. Don't get a lot of strangers paying social calls.
Hunter?"

"That's
right."

"Damn,"
Jonas said, shaking his head in amusement. "Ernest really up
and did it, didn't he?"

"Uh
huh."

"Begging
your pardon, but finding a lost dog doesn't really seem the caliber
of work for a hunter."

"You'd
be surprised. Besides, it isn't a lost dog. Ernest got a ransom
note today."

"Seriously?
I guess that does make it official."

"You
want to go inside?"

Jonas
shook his head.

"No
point. Not like I've got files on local dognappers to look up. Have
a seat."

Alys
sat down. More than likely, the 'files' on local crooks were sitting
next to her anyway. Besides, it was a nice day.

"Since
you got my name, what's yours?"

"Alys."

Jonas's
head swiveled around to face her, his hands stopping work on the toy
in his lap for the first time.

"Alys
Brangwin?" he asked, surprised.

She
sighed, knowing what was coming next, and answered, "Yes."

"The
Eight-Stroke Warrior? The biggest, baddest hunter on the planet came
to Vennet to look for a dog?"

"Please,
don't use that stupid nickname," she said in a pained voice, and
Jonas chuckled.

"Guess
I won't. It is pretty silly, isn't it?"

"You
have no idea."

"Well,
if this dognapping's enough to bring you down here, guess I'd better
take it seriously. What kind of ransom are they asking?"

"He
just called it a missing treasure on the Guild listing, but I guess
that means different things to different people."

"Sure
does."

Jonas
knotted off a thread on his model.

"Is
that a glider?" Alys asked, changing the subject abruptly.

"Huh?
Yeah, a toy one."

"Did
you know that some Native Motavians actually use full-size ones to
fly with?"

"Seriously?"

Alys
nodded.

"Uh-huh.
There's a village where they have a race every year. I was hired to
catch someone who'd stolen the lead inventor's design. She offered
to let me fly the glider when I recovered it, but I've never really
been much for thrills for their own sake."

Jonas
shook his head.

"Wouldn't
catch me going up in one. I like keeping my feet on the ground."

"I
guess Ernest's dog didn't. From what he said, Robin's a bit of a
troublemaker. Of course, he doesn't believe a word of it. He thinks
that people who don't like Robin are making up stories."

"That'd
be how he'd see it."

"How
do you see it?"

Jonas
set the model glider down between them and leaned back, considering
the matter.

"Robin's
a good dog," he said. "He's not mean or vicious, wouldn't
bite anything more than a chew toy. Problem is, Ernest ain't a good
owner. He loves Robin, sure enough, but won't teach him manners,
won't even keep him fenced. Dog's like a kid. You don't teach it
how to act right, it won't. So it gets in trouble now and again
'cause it don't know different."

"Would
he be hard to steal?"

"Can't
think why. Friendly dog, would go off with anyone. Then you'd just
have to tie him or shut him up in a room."

Alys
nodded.

"I
guess it would be especially easy since Robin probably knows everyone
in the village by now."

"Probably."

"One
more question."

"Just
one?" Jonas was surprised. "Figured you'd have more than
that."

Alys
shook her head.

"Maybe,
but I don't think so."

"Like
to earn your fees instead of leaning on the local law, do you?"

Alys
shrugged.

"Actually,
local law was the point of my question. What's the fine amount here
for letting a dog run loose and get into trouble?"

"You
didn't want to go inside. Maybe because you like the sun and fresh
air. Maybe because there was something you didn't want me to see.
Then there was this." She picked up the glider. "The
ransom note had me thinking of a child to begin with, both from the
spelling and because of the ransom amount. Only a little kid would
think of a hundred meseta as a ransom."

"That's
why I did it that way. Since I was only asking for the amount of the
fine, it only made since as a kid's prank. Had my nephew write the
note. That can't have been all, though."

Alys
nodded.

"That's
how intuition works. You see something, it reminds you of something
else, and the next thing you know, it's an idea. And hey, all it
took to check was to call a dog. Now, about that explanation?"

"I
feel for the guy."

"Ernest?"

"Yeah.
He loves his animals, and he mostly treats them right. But he's
gotta learn, he's gotta take responsibility for that dog. It ain't
just 'cause someone's gonna punch Ernest in the face sooner or later.
Heck, truth be told I like the dog better than the man, and he could
get hurt or killed running loose. A fine won't mean nothing, but
worrying over what happened might make him stop and think. Guy like
that, only way he changes is if he thinks it's for the dog's own
good."

"Works
for me."

"So
what're you going to tell him?"

"I
was thinking about the truth. I found the dognapper, I rescued
Robin, and building a nice fenced yard would keep the dog from
running off where nasty people and things could hurt him. I can even
recommend a guy right here in town who's good with wood who might
help him put the fence up."

"True
enough. You're pretty confident about it, though."

Alys
leaned back.

"Uh
huh. I am."

"Intuition
again?"

"Some.
But it works either way. It's just a question of whether I have to
add a line about how I had to fight the dognapper to rescue Robin by
force."

Jonas
gave her another wide-eyed look, then grinned, tipped his head back,
and laughed heartily.